


The Golden Flower

by Kamaro0917



Series: Second Chances and Bonus Scenes [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fleurmione Week 2020, Fluff and Crack, Pregnancy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26376064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamaro0917/pseuds/Kamaro0917
Summary: Evangeline just wanted a quiet night at work. But you don’t always get what you want.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Series: Second Chances and Bonus Scenes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816891
Comments: 18
Kudos: 232
Collections: Fleurmione Week 2020





	The Golden Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Well, folks, we made it to the end of Fleurmione Week 2020. What an amazing experience getting to read all these new works from such talented writers in the community. Way to represent our favorite magical useless lesbians. 
> 
> Today is 'Free Day' and I made a promise to MagicNonCreator for some fluff after starting this week off with tragedy. It is a bonus scene from the Second Chances verse, so it may help to read that first, but I tried to write it as a stand alone (just some OCs might not make sense if you're unfamiliar with SC). It takes place during the epilogue time-jumps.
> 
> So, without further ado...

Evangeline DesJardins walked the empty hallways of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, finishing up her final rounds of her shift. She walked at a leisurely pace, pausing at occupied rooms to check the patient charts and prescribed treatment plans. 

It had come as a surprise to everyone when the young Healer decided to stay in London after finishing her mastery program last year. After four years of study and apprenticeships, she had a network of friends and colleagues that she couldn’t bear to leave. And she had to admit, England had grown on her. She reveled in the independence it offered. She would return to France if the Clan required it, but until then she enjoyed making her own way in the world.

It was a quiet night in early November and nothing seemed amiss or out of the ordinary in her general care ward. Evangeline was thankful it was off-season for the pro Quidditch league, as the rooms were devoid of both the overenthusiastic fans and the injured players, that for all intents and purposes, lived in the ward during the regular-season. She loved her work but sometimes she just wanted a quiet night like tonight - one where people were healthy and not injuring themselves. 

Mercifully, she had just a small handful of patients to check on, none of which required her immediate attention. A witch suffering from a bad case of dragon pox and a wizard that had been exposed to undiluted bubotuber pus were the most severe open cases. At this point, the best course of treatment for both patients was a good night’s rest.

She paused at the end of the long hallway, taking a moment for herself before returning to the healer’s station to wait for the next shift to arrive and relieve her of her duties. She raised her arms over her head and arched her back, releasing a satisfied groan as her spine popped in several places. Feeling properly stretched, she leaned against the wall and rubbed her tired eyes, the only real sign of her fatigue. Despite being at the tail end of her twelve-hour shift, the Veela looked like she had just stepped off the runway at Paris Fashion Week: her chestnut brown hair was done up in a tidy bun and her lime green robes were crisp and wrinkle-free. 

She cast a quick Tempus charm to verify the time, _12:45am. Just 15 more minutes._ With a sigh, she pushed off the wall and headed back to her station, her footsteps echoing down the sterile, linoleum-floored corridor. 

Her ears perked up when she heard a sudden commotion up ahead; it sounded like it was coming from the reception room. She could make out several voices speaking rapidly in distressed, raised tones, though not quite loud enough for her to hear what they were saying. Without a second thought she was sprinting down the hallway to investigate the issue, her Healer instincts kicking in despite her exhaustion. 

As she approached the scene, she immediately recognized one of the voices: a distinct French accent and authoritative, demanding tone that could only belong to one person.

Rounding the corner, Evangeline was greeted by the sight of a very agitated Fleur Delacour protectively carrying a heavily pregnant Hermione bridal style in her arms. The tall blonde was surrounded by several Healers, all of whom were trying in vain to calm her down so they could help Hermione.

“I told you, monsieur, my wife is in labor! We require your assistance!” Fleur hissed impatiently, clearly put off that it was taking so long.

“Madame, please, I understand… We need you to set her down -” Healer Warrick tried, his hands raised in a passive manner to try to quiet the partially transformed Veela. Thankfully, the antiquated and oppressive laws requiring those of Creature descent to register had been overturned under Minister Shacklebolt’s progressive administration. So aside from terrifying a group hospital staff, there were no repercussions for Fleur’s open display of her Veela heritage. 

“Non, I shall take her, tell me where to go!” Fleur shot back at the dark-haired wizard, her accent thick in her distressed state. A few more blue feathers sprouted across her cheekbones and along her hairline.

Hermione, meanwhile, was just resignedly eating a bag of pickle flavored chips, talking to one of the Healers standing by her that was not actively engaged in the shouting match. “I've already given up on trying to talk sense to her. But yeah, my water broke about twenty five minutes ago, give or take."

“Please calm down, ma'am. You’re adding undue stress to your wife.” Healer Holmes offered meekly. The timid witch shrank slightly under the intense glare now being focused on her.

“We can’t do that, it’s against hospital policy…” Warrick asserted but was shut down immediately by a deep, aggressive growl.

 _‘Oh, this is not good,’_ Evangeline thought as she got a quick read on the scene. A Veela, especially an alpha Veela, was incredibly protective and would not relinquish control if they perceived that their mate was in danger. She needed to deescalate the situation before Fleur ended up accidentally harming herself or someone else. She hurried over to enter the fray, gently pushing aside her colleagues.

“MY WIFE IS HAVING OUR BABY!” Fleur screeched loudly, “If my hands weren’t otherwise occupied I would show you where you can shove your _policies_. I don’t give a… Oh, Evangeline, thank the Goddess you’re here! Tell these imbeciles that they are wasting time and my wife needs healing immédiatement!” 

“Fleur, you need to calm down. Hermione is not in any danger right now and there is no need to rush at this stage. I know you are excited and think you’re protecting her, but we need to keep Hermione as relaxed as possible and this isn’t helping the situation. We are professionals and no harm will come to Hermione. Trust me.” Evangeline spoke calmly and evenly, making sure that her posture remained neutral. Any sign of aggression would likely trigger Fleur’s Veela even more.

Red eyes narrowed dangerously before slowly shifting back to their usual state of sapphire blue. “D’accord. But only if you are with her the entire time.”

Evangeline nodded and gestured to the other Healers to prepare the gurney to transport Hermione to the maternity ward. “Of course, I will not leave her side. I would never let anything happen to her.” 

Fleur finally relented and set Hermione down on the levitating hospital bed that had been brought over. 

Once the pregnant witch was settled, the Healers swooped in, taking the brunette’s vitals and casting various diagnostic charms. The timid witch, Holmes, was quickly drawing up a patient chart, her quill moving feverishly across the parchment as the other Healers spouted off test results. All of their movements were closely monitored by the protective blonde, now standing back a few feet with her arms folded stiffly across her chest.

Satisfied that the immediate risk of Fleur going full Veela-mode had passed, Evangeline turned her attention to the young brunette witch. “Hermione, you said your water broke twenty five minutes ago?”

“Yeah, it took us a little longer than expected to drive here,” the British witch supplied calmly.

“You drove here?” 

“Well, _I_ didn’t. Fleur did. We were worried about Apparating or using the Floo and decided not to take that risk. I read that there is inconclusive research as to the potential negative effects of either on pregnancies this far along. Sometimes muggle is the way to go.” Hermione explained in the same tone she might use to describe something as obvious as the weather forecast. If not for her swollen stomach and light sweat on her brow, one would never suspect she was in labor. “Fleur and I have been staying in one of the Clan-owned flats for the past few weeks, just in case the baby came early. Home birth didn’t really sound appealing to either of us,” she explained, casually waving her hand as she spoke.

Evangeline had to bite her tongue at that news. The thought of Fleur driving on a normal day was terrifying to her, let alone trying to navigate the busy streets of London while her wife was in labor. 

The other Healers finished their work and started guiding the group down the hallway toward the maternity ward.

Along the way, Evangeline put on her professional mask and objectively explained the procedure and what they should expect while at St. Mungo’s. She knew that the bookworm had probably done extensive research on her pregnancy but it didn’t hurt for the expectant mothers to have a quick reminder of the facts.

“D’accord. So once we take you to your room you will likely have several hours to wait before you enter the next stage of labor. We’ll be around and closely monitoring your progress but at this time it is best that you stay calm and relaxed as possible. Both of you,” her eyes purposefully flicked over to Fleur, who blushed and looked thoroughly chastised. “While you wait, feel free to walk around or do what feels natural to you. Sometimes women in labor feel like taking a relaxing bath, so if that sounds like something you want we can arrange for a tub to be brought in.”

Hermione and Fleur were listening intently; nodding and absorbing her words.

“And what else can I do to help soothe her?” The alpha prompted, eager to have a task to focus on. 

“Like I said, just make her as comfortable as possible and let her know you’re there. Touch her regularly, like massage her abdomen or lower back. Basically, give Hermione your undivided attention and reassure her of your presence.”

“Should be easy enough for my big, protective Veela, huh?” Hermione quipped. “Your inability to keep your hands off me is what got us into this situation in the first place.”

Fleur smiled sheepishly and held her wife’s hand as they walked down the immaculate hallway. 

Evangeline was pleased that Fleur had managed to rein in her protective instincts. Even with her second wind, she did not have the energy to wrestle with a fully transformed Veela and deliver a baby. 

The hours ticked by slowly. As promised, Evangeline never left Hermione’s side; though she was on her fourth cup of coffee since the young couple’s unexpected arrival. 

When it came time for Hermione to start pushing, Fleur was beside herself with hysteria. Hearing her mate crying out in pain triggered her instinct to protect and she sent several Healers flying as they tried to assist the brunette witch, the Veela perceiving their efforts as a threat. Evangeline was on the brink of hexing Fleur into next year to get her to stop interfering with the delivery, but the timely arrival of the rest of the Delacour family spared her the unpleasant task.

With Apolline and Adeline present, Fleur’s Veela submitted to the will of two senior alphas. Once she was back in control of herself, she dutifully held Hermione’s hand, offered words of encouragement, and dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth to keep the sweat out of her eyes. 

For all of the build up and anticipation, the actual delivery went smoothly, for which Evangeline was eternally grateful. She was going on her 20th hour at work and was dead on her feet. But she couldn’t allow herself to relax yet. She was carrying such precious cargo. 

She had taken the newborn Veela to another room to clean her and run some diagnostic tests while the remaining healers tended to the exhausted witch and administered post-labor care. 

To Fleur’s credit, she only hissed her displeasure at having her child taken away, but understood that it was necessary. However, if it were anyone other than Evangeline, her inner Veela would have objected more. 

Evangeline hurried through her tasks, knowing that a baby, especially one of Veela descent, needed time to bond with its mother. Hermione had been able to hold the newborn for a few minutes immediately after the delivery before she took her away but it was certainly not enough for either child or mother. Once the baby was cleaned, Evangeline placed a soft cotton hat on her head to keep her warm and wrapped her in a soft blanket, tucking it tightly around the tiny body. 

Two sets of expectant eyes were locked onto her the moment she reentered the room. Hermione had been cleaned up and her sheets changed; the pink flush of her cheeks was the only remaining evidence of her efforts. The brunette was now sitting up in bed, propped up by a nest of pillows (probably Fleur’s doing). Fleur was perching on the bed next to her, rubbing her wife’s knee, eagerly awaiting their daughter’s return. The older Delacour women had already left to tell the joyous news to the group of friends and family waiting in the reception area.

“I think someone wants you,” Evangeline smiled at Hermione as she approached the new mothers. 

Hermione, exhausted as she was, held her arms out and Evangeline deposited the swaddled baby into the waiting arms before stepping back to give the new family their privacy. She stood quietly in the corner filling out forms, passively listening in case they needed her for anything. 

“She’s beautiful, Fleur.” Hermione whispered reverently as she stared at the sleeping baby cradled in her arms, tears trickling down her cheeks. Her wife had moved to sit next to her, an arm wrapped protectively around her back, holding her close.

Unable to form words, Fleur choked back her own happy sobs as she reached out to softly stroke the baby’s cheek with the back of her finger. The infant jerked her head in response and both mothers cooed, completely enraptured by their child.

After a few minutes the baby twitched again and woke up, gazing up with sleepy, unfocused eyes. Instinctively recognizing her parents, chubby cheeks pulled to the side in a half-smile.

“Oh, she’s going to be just like you, I can tell. She’s already got your smirk.” Hermione laughed softly. “We are going to have our hands full, aren’t we?”

“My maman will probably say it’s karma.” Fleur chuckled, nuzzling her cheek against Hermione’s head as she stared down at the now squirming baby. 

“Well, we had better enjoy the calm while we can, then. Isn’t that right, Aurelia Rose?” Hermione lowered her head to kiss the baby’s forehead.

Truer words were never spoken, as seconds later the quiet was shattered by surprisingly loud wails.

“Yep, definitely your daughter…”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to The_Lochness_Monster for reading through this craziness. Also, special thanks to Harmonic_Wisp for letting me take this plot bunny!
> 
> A/N, I am disregarding canon because the floors/wings (as they are written) were very limiting… so if you go looking up St. Mungo’s floor plan to check anything, you’ll be sorely disappointed.  
> Also, as I tend to do when wanting to leave things to chance, I rolled a d20 to determine Fleur's ability to keep her shit together during the delivery. She rolled a 3/20... lol.  
> A/N 2.0 - I have never had a baby nor have I been around one immediately after birth, so all this is courtesy of Google… but apparently baby smirks are a thing. Seemed fitting for Fleur’s daughter.


End file.
